Molly Camden and the Mirror of Euryale
by Riley Hall
Summary: --The youth and misadventures of Molly Weasley. -- Much more of a plot here than ya might think at first. I amaze myself I'm so darn clever. Please Read and Review, I need opinions!
1. Friends and Fights

"Molly!" A frustrated voice could be heard calling up the stairs on Hillandale Drive in southern London. There were a few loud grumbles as a woman, no older than 35, plodded up a staircase. "Molly Camden!" The voice was louder and more irritable this time, "You should've been up twenty minutes ago. You're going to be late for your first day of school!" Under a pile of twisted white sheets and a foot of long chestnut hair a girl of eleven drowsily rubbed her eyes. She stretched her mouth in a yawn and blinked up at her mother,  
  
"Mum, school doesn't even start today. I might miss the train... but I won't be late for school." Molly knew that this would only antagonize her more, but she had fun watching the different colors that her mother could turn. Alice Camden was already a step ahead of her daughter, however. When Molly looked up to see how angry she had made her, Alice grabbed the blankets, tugged, and sent Molly sprawling to the floor. With a smug laugh, Alice turned on her heel and marched out of the room,  
  
"And see that you make that bed, too, or you won't be making the train or your school on time." Alice shut the door leaving her daughter grumbling as she picked up the sheets and flattened them back onto the mattress. Just because she knows I hate to be late, Molly muttered under her breath as she put her pillow back in place.  
  
The truth was, Molly had her morning planned down to the second. She knew exactly what outfit she was wearing, and exactly how she was going to fix her hair. She knew, not because she was obsessive compulsive, but because this was going to be hew first day at Hogwarts.  
  
Hogwarts was not just any school. It was a school of magic. Molly was going to develop her skills as a witch. Like most of the kids who were starting that day, she had known that she was going to go to Hogwarts for most of her life. Her father was a wizard and her mum was a witch. And her father's father was a wizard and her mother's mother was a witch. Every member of her family, as far back as she could trace, had gone to Hogwarts to learn to use their magic (except for one uncle who, for some reason, had decided to attend a french school, Boba something or other.) As the names of her relatives floated through her head, it felt like a flock of butterflies was swarming in her stomach. And I'm going! she thought, nervous excitement sweeping over her.  
  
Carefully, Molly tied her hair back in the light blue ribbon that she had picked out for the day. It coordinated just right with her light blue tank top, which coordinated just right with her light blue socks, which set off her light green eyes just right. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad, she decided. She pretended to laugh at a joke then smiled warmly at herself in the mirror, "I'm Molly Camden," she said, reaching a hand out into the air.  
  
"Me too," came a curt voice from in front of her. "and if you're quite done..." The voice trailed off and Molly glared the image of herself in the mirror that had just spoken.  
  
"You don't have to be so rude!" She said and stalked out of the bathroom.  
  
Alice was standing in the kitchen finished up breakfast when Molly came out. "Are you ready to go, then, dear?" She asked, wondering at the annoyed look in her daughter's eye. Molly stared at her mother and answered huffily,  
  
"Of course I'm ready to go." Her mother, still wondering, carried her dishes to the sink and set her wand to cleaning them. Alice threw another glance at her daughter and the expression on her face, then suddenly realizing the cause she tried desperately to hold in her laughter.  
  
"Is there something wrong, sweetheart?" She said with the most serious face she could muster. Molly let out a sigh and said,  
  
"You know, Mum, as much as I love this place. I really hope that somethings change around here while I'm gone this year." Alice put on her confused motherly look and said,  
  
"What do you mean, Mol?" Molly's face was now breaking into a smile as well,  
  
"Mum, if that stupid mirror is still here when I come back..." She trailed off, and the sound of Alice's laughter still danced around the kitchen as they walked to the car.  
  
On the way to the train station, Molly sat back, thinking of all the things that would soon be happening. She wondered what kind of friends she would make, and if there would be any cute new boys. She'd met some of the new first years already, because they'd been her playmates for her whole life. Her best friend, Annie Hale, had decided she wanted to go to some American school, though. Oh well, she told herself encouragingly, I'm sure I'll make other friends.  
  
They pulled up to King's Cross Station with forty minutes to spare. And before any other student was even on the platform, Molly had said goodbye to her mother, loaded her trunk, and become comfortable in a spacious compartment. She sat staring impatiently out the window, hoping that the train would start moving soon, when the compartment door slid open. A tall blond girl with bright blue eyes walked in, and smiled nervously at Molly.  
  
"Hi," she said a little tentatively. "I hope you don't mind if I sit in here, there's no one else on the train yet, and it's kind of creepy being in one of these rooms all alone." Molly returned her smile and held out her hand, like she had done in front of her mirror at home,  
  
"Molly Camden, I'm a first year, are you?" The blond girl nodded her head as she introduced herself,  
  
"Brooke Andrews. I'm so nervous!" She said, though she didn't look it. "My brother started here two years ago. He loves it so much, but I don't know. It's just so crazy, you know? My parents both went here but I don't know if I can do it. I've never been great with magic. I couldn't even fly on a broom properly until I was eight." When Brook finally ended, Molly gave her a sympathetic smile and said,  
  
"I'm an only child. So everything I know is from my parents. They both loved it too, they were Ravenclaws. What about your parents?"  
  
"Hufflepuffs," she said, with a meek sort of grimace.  
  
In five minutes, the girls had established that they both wanted to be Gryffindors, neither of them knew what the sorting actually was, and they both thought that transfiguration sounded just plain cool. As their topic slid to books, the compartment door slid open again, and they both turned to see who had entered.  
  
A very tall, very redheaded boy had stepped into the compartment. He was busy shutting the door again, and hadn't seemed to notice that Molly and Brook were there. "Ha." He said to himself after he had shoved a long stick through the handles of the door. "See if you can get through that, Malfoy." He stood back, admiring his work for a moment then turned to sit down. His eyes fell to Brook, then shifted to Molly, and then his ears became as red as his hair.  
  
"Ah... erm. Sorry. I... ah... sorry." He muttered again, and then he un-barricaded the door and scooted through it before either Molly or Brook had time to piece together a sentence. They simply turned to look at each other and shook their heads. Molly raised one eyebrow and said,  
  
"Okay," and they resumed their discussion about Hogwarts.  
  
Before too much time had passed, Molly and Brook had become friends; and the train was pulling to a stop. They had changed into their jet black robes five minutes earlier and were currently discussing Alexander Marticello, the very smart, very cute author who had written The Wizard of Dungeon Lake, the most popular book in a century. In a flock of students, Molly and Brook made their way off the train.  
  
"He's so adorable!" Brook cooed as she admired Marticello's winking and waving photo on the back cover of his book, "And I mean, to write like that, he's got to be hilarious too, you know?!" The girls' giggles were cut short when Molly slammed into a person who had stopped in front of her.  
  
"Oof!" She grunted very unfeminely, "What in the--" She cut herself short. Up ahead they could here shouting and a small crowd was forming in a circle.  
  
"You-- you," came a loud, furious voice. A sneering voice followed and reverberated around the crowd,  
  
"What, little Artie? It's true! If your family--" All Molly could see was a tuft of bright red hair peeking over the shoulders of someone in front of her, but she could hear how the sneering voice trailed off in fear. Someone gasped to her right and orange sparks flew up into the air from the middle of the circle.  
  
"If you ever," came the first voice again, "ever, say another word about my family, you'll get a lot worse than that." They watched as the crowd parted nervously on the other side, and the tuft of red hair vanished.  
  
Slowly, people began to disperse, whispering quickly to one another. Molly and Brook began to move forward, wondering what had happened; but they didn't wonder long. Beside Molly, Brook gasped and nearly fell as she tripped on a black pile of robes laying on the ground.  
  
The pile moved; then it groaned. With a look somewhere between distress and annoyance, Brook carefully bent over and pulled the cloak away. A pair of pale blue eyes stared up at them from under a crop of nearly white hair. A dark bruise was beginning to form around the right eye; in fact, the boy looking up at them looked like he had just been through a war-- and barely survived.  
  
Molly bit her lip and held out a hand to help the bruised boy to his feet. He stood up and surveyed them; then in a sneery, if not condescending voice, he asked,  
  
"Who are you?" Brook dropped her jaw the curt remark, but Molly elbowed her in the side and she shut it again. Molly put on her well-practiced smile and introduced herself,  
  
"I'm Molly Camden, this will be my first year here," The boys pale eyes shifted expectantly to Brook, but Molly didn't miss a beat, "and this is my friend Brook Andrews. She's a first year too." The boy seemed to be satisfied, and he stretched out his hand to Molly,  
  
"Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. I'm sure you've heard of me." The half-smile that Brook had pasted on her face fell away instantly,  
  
"Why would we ha--" Molly's elbow hitched into her side again, and answered Lucius in her politest voice,  
  
"Brook means, I think," She shot a glare at Brook through the corner of her eye, "that we're sorry, but we haven't heard of you." Malfoy quickly retracted his hand, muttering,  
  
"Andrews... Camden... I thought..." His face changed to match the sneer in his voice. Brook narrowed her eyes,  
  
"You thought what?" Her voice was threateningly low.  
  
"I thought," Malfoy sneered, " seeing as I've heard the names Camden and Andrews before, that you were pure-bloods, but obviously you're just little mud--" Brook cut him off with a gasp. She would have yelled or screamed, but she seemed at a loss for words. Molly took her friend's moment of hesitation to speak. She cleared her throat,  
  
"My parents are both wizards, if that's what you mean, Lucius," she paused, glancing at Brook; she was still stumbling on words in her rage, "so are Brook's." Malfoy sneered a little more,  
  
"But you haven't heard of my family?" Molly shook her head, as though she was explaining to a child. Malfoy grunted. "They must have been Hufflepuffs then."  
  
That was the last straw for Brook. Her eyes grew wide in shock, then she jumped.  
  
Malfoy smacked the pavement before he knew what was going on. Molly stared in horror as she watched her new friend roll over the ground with Lucius Malfoy. She heard muffled screams and winced as she listened to the sound of hair being yanked out of someone's head. Silently cheering for Brook, she noted that most of those muffled screams were male.  
  
"Hey! Break it up! Break--It--Up! First day of school, and I have to deal with this already! Cuts, scrapes, bruises... I'll talk to Dumbledore about this... Certainly, I will." A short woman with brown hair, graying at the roots, walked up. "I said stop!" She shouted in a shrill, frustrated voice. Brook and Malfoy continued to fight. The woman's eyes threatened to pop out of her head. "Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus!" The woman had drawn her wand and frozen both of them. 


	2. Deja Vu

Molly stared nervously at her new friend lying on the bright white bed. The woman who had frozen her had turned out to be the school nurse, the very ruffled school nurse. She had been flitting around the room for five minutes fixing the scrapes and cuts on Brook and ignoring Molly's pleas to unfreeze.   
It's her own fault! The nurse had replied, fighting on the first day. I don't care who started the fight. The nurse, Madam Pomfrey, had listened to Molly's explanation of what had happened, but Molly was becoming desperate,  
Madam Pomfrey! We're going to miss the Sorting. What happens if they don't sort us and they just tell us to go home, please! Let her go! Madam Pomfrey turned with a huff,   
I'm not keeping her prisoner. I'm fixing her. And the Headmaster would not turn you home yet, I am sure. As for that Lucius, however, if what you say is true... her voice faded off. Suddenly, from the doorway, an old but humorous voice began to speak,   
No one will be expelled today, Poppy. Miss Andrews, Mr. Malfoy, and a Mr. Weasley will receive warnings, though. Another event such as this cannot be tolerated. Molly turned her eyes to the man. He was old, perhaps ninety, but he seemed to have an energy that was not normal for a man his age. A long flowing silver beard fell to his waist and bright blue eyes sparkled under his half-moon spectacles. His gaze met Molly's.   
You would be Molly Camden, then, it wasn't a question, I suggest that you get to the Sorting. It will be starting momentarily, and you will not want to miss it. Molly began to protest, glancing worriedly at Brook. He smiled a little,  
Miss Andrews will be fine, we will Sort her and Mr. Malfoy separately when Madam Pomfrey feels they are ready. Madam Pomfrey grunted and set about her work again. With one last guilty look at the frozen Brook, she hurried out of the room.   
  
Molly wandered carefully through the enormous halls drawn the sound of students' talk and laughter. She passed great suits of armor and grand paintings, wondering all the while how she would ever keep her mind on studies in such a place. The clatter grew louder and louder, and she could see a dancing light up ahead, like the light made by a thousand candles. She walked forward.  
The room was magnificent. Four long tables clothed in yellow, scarlet, green, and blue held hundreds of students dressed formally in their black robes and hats. Dozens of candles, just as Molly had imagined, floated in the air, lighting and warming the hall. There were no windows, but the ceiling... Molly saw the ceiling for the first time. It wasn't there. In its place was a clear night sky dotted with brilliant stars and a full moon. Molly stared in awe.   
Incredible, isn't it? Said a low voice by her shoulder. Molly couldn't stop staring, she couldn't even blink, so she simply answered,   
Yes... it's marvelous. The person beside her laughed little, a light, happy sound, and turned to her,   
I'm Amos Diggory, he said, still smiling by the sound of his voice. Molly tore her gaze from the sky and looked at the boy next to her. He was tall, probably a foot above her with dark brown, almost black hair, that fell into his light gray eyes. Molly felt her knees tremble a little, and she beamed up at him admiringly,   
she stuttered out, Molly Camden. He grinned again, and Molly's stomach swam.   
First year?He asked with a knowing look. All Molly could do was nod as she stared into the depths of his eyes. He flashed a grin again and said,   
I started two years ago. Still pretty amazing, though. He turned his gaze back up to the ceiling and the two stood there for a moment silently watching the stars. He shifted and said,   
Well, I have to go, they're calling me at the table, nice to meet you, Molly. He grinned one last time then walked off toward the yellow table. Molly sighed. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, trying to make sure that Amos was real. Wow, was all she could think when he didn't disappear.  
called a girl's voice from across the hall, hey Molly Camden! Molly jerked back to the real world, and was relieved to see Brook trotting over to her.   
Who was that?! She asked, a little bit of the amazement Molly had been feeling creeping into her voice. Molly sighed again.  
Amos Diggory. Brook stared at the yellow table,  
She said, dazedly.  
Molly muttered as they started off toward the front of the room where all of the first years were gathering.  
  
As they walked between two tables (scarlet and yellow) Brook explained to Molly that Madam Pomfrey had declared her but Malfoy was still rather battered. Molly bit back a laugh at this, feeling guilty that she'd known Lucius for a matter of hours and already was inclined to hate him. Brook went on to say that the battery wasn't entirely her doing. Apparently, some kid named Weasley had gotten into a fight with him only moments before they had stumbled upon him. Something clicked in Molly's head, and she remembered Dumbledore saying a Mr. Weasley would receive a warning. She wondered what Malfoy had done to make the Weasley kid jump him too. She didn't have long to think about it, however, because they reached the front of the room where an enormous woman with stringy black hair was pushing the first years into a line.   
She cried in a voice that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. Brook looked at Molly with an expression that simply said, who is_ that?_ Molly shrugged her shoulders and made her way toward the beginning of the line. When I call your name, the stringy-haired woman announced, step forward to be sorted.   
Dumbledore stood up across the hall and a hush fell over the crowd. Good evening, students! He greeted them warmly, I hope you all had pleasant summer holidays. Our caretaker, Mr. Apollyon Pringle, has asked me to remind all students that flaming milk tarts and disappearing-heel shoes will not be permitted in the castle this year, along with all the other items listed in Section ß of the rule book. Remember that no one is to enter the Forbidden Forest or exit the castle past eleven o' clock at night. I know this will be another splendid year. Now let the Sorting commence so we may eat! Professor Naphtha, he waved his arm, motioning for her to begin.   
The stringy-haired woman, presumably Professor Naphtha, stepped forward. She drew a thick rag out of her robes. For a moment Molly thought she was going to clean off the short stool in front of her, but then a noise somewhere between fingernails on a chalk board and Molly's great-grand uncle's singing reverberated around the hall.   
  


Good Day, brand new students,  
You've come from afar,  
To arrive here at Hogwarts,  
Where you'll learn magic,spells, and charms.  
  
Before you enchant anything,  
I'm afraid we'll have to know,  
Just what house to put you in,  
But don't fret, I'll know where you should go.  
  
Four houses, there are, my friends,  
Each with their own special name,  
Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor,  
Each with their own great acclaim.  
  
Helga Hufflepuff was a kind, trustworthy sole,  
Always fair and just to anyone she'd know,  
Hufflepuffs, now, have distinctive traits,  
They always work hard and diligently and they hate to be late.  
  
Salazar Slytherin, was not quite the same,  
He was very ambitious and he achieved great fame,  
Slytherins love to win, they strive to ace the test,  
And with those the same as them, they are at their best  
  
Rowena Ravenclaw had a truly brilliant mind,  
There was not an answer that she could not find,  
Ravenclaws always master magic and grow,  
These clever minds seek and find all they want to know.  
  
Godric Gryffindor set a lion on his crest,  
Courage and bravery is for what he is known best,  
Gryffindors are now noble, bold and valiant chaps  
They don't have to think to just know how to act.  
  
So come and sit down calmly  
And place me on your head.  
I may be a hat, but I'm the best,  
There is no need to dread!  
  


The voice, which had grown more tolerable during the song as though it just needed some warming up, ended and the hall broke out into a tumultuous applause.   
Professor Naphtha stepped forward and rolled open a brand new scroll. She took a deep breath and called out the first student's name, Ackerly, Elisa. A small girl with dark brown eyes and black hair crossed over and sat the stool. She put the hat on her head and sat and wringing her hands until the hat shrilly called,   
Elisa took it off and wandered shyly toward the yellow table amid polite clapping.   
Adams, Matthew. Professor Naphtha beckoned, and a lanky blond boy advanced to the stool. He was declared a in moments, and Molly watched apprehensively as Naphtha called Brook to the stool.   
As Brook sat, the hat sinking slowly over her shiny blond hair, a few whispers broke out in the hall. The fight, which had lasted only minutes, already seemed to be making Brook famous. Suddenly, she shook her head determinedly no' and the hat made what looked like a shrug then cried,   
Happiness exploded inside of Molly. _Now if only I can get in too,_ she thought, crossing her fingers as her name was called.   
She moved cautiously to the stool and placed the rather smelly hat on her head, where in slipped down and enveloped her face. A voice like low bells sounded inside her mind,   
Ah, a Camden, it said thoughtfully, Usually have strong opinions. I can see you're not afraid of much, but very clever as well. Not much ambition, though. Hmmm... It was silent for a moment and Molly fidgeted nervously Not patient either, it said, sounding a bit annoyed. Any preferences? It asked her in the deep voice,   
Molly thought hard, I want to be in Gryffindor!   
The hat asked, No changes once it's done, you know. Molly felt herself nod aggressively and the hat screamed,   
  
  
A joy filled Molly unlike one she had ever felt. She didn't even know why she was so happy, it wasn't like she didn't like the other houses. She wondered about it for a moment as she walked toward the scarlet Gryffindor table, but just decided that it was meant to be when she saw Brook waving her over excitedly.   
Brook was laughing as she pulled Molly onto the bench. Molly, this is Phil Weasley, she giggled quietly, pointing to a tall boy with fiery read hair and a large nose, Phil, Molly Camden. Phil reached across the table and shook Molly's hand while her eyes analyzed him; _Weasley,_ she thought critically, _did _he _attack Lucius?_.   
I'm a forth year, Phil announced in a surprisingly deep voice and interrupting Molly from her thoughts. My youngest brother, Arthur, is a first year too. He'll be last to be Sorted, I'm sure, as our name's a W. My sister, he said, motioning to a tall girl with the same red hair farther down the table, is a Sixth year. Her name's Louisa. She's a prefect, and very proud of it. My brother was one too, so were Hollis and Angie, though, so it's nothing new. Molly held her hand up, begging him to stop for a moment.   
How many siblings do you have? She asked in an exasperated tone. Phil laughed and counted off on his fingers,  
Seven, not counting me of course. There's me, Arthur, Louisa, Hollis, she graduated last year and is working for the ministry as a supervisor of magical creatures, John, he's twenty eight and works at Flourish and Blots in Diagon Alley, Angie, she works for the Daily Prophet as a copy editor, she's thirty, ...I think, Stewart, who has a store in a town like Hogsmead, and... he took a second to catch his breath and recount his fingers, Oh, and Patrick, who is a HufflePuff. He's the only Weasley that hasn't been in Gryffindor. We were really quite amazed when.... Molly stopped listening. Her eyes were wide with admiration for Phil's mother, whoever she was. Molly knew that she would never ne able to handle that many kids and survive.   
*************************************************************  
  
She looked back up to the Sorting, letting Brook listen to Phil ramble. It looked like two girls and one boy had been Sorted into Slytherin, (the green table) another girl, Tompkins, Rena, had gone to Hufflepuff, and a boy had gone to Ravenclaw. As Phil had guessed, Arthur Weasley, who Molly quickly recognized as the boy who had barged into their compartment on the train, was the last to be sorted. The hat had barely touched his head when it called out, to deafening applause.   
When Arthur was sorted and seated, Dumbledore stood up once more, stretching a little. I trust you will all treat our new first years kindly. Now, enjoy your feast! Dumbledore swished his wand gracefully and the golden plates in front of them magically filled with food.   
Molly was more hungry than she'd thought, and the dinner was the best she'd ever tasted. That was not even mentioning the dessert. Molly had a big weakness for good chocolate, and the chocolate at Hogwarts was exceptional.   
In a half hour, Molly looked over the table of Gryffindors. Their talk was dying down, their eyes were drooping, and every one of their plates had been all-but-licked clean. Molly herself was beginning to feel as though she wouldn't be able to stay awake another moment when Dumbledore stood up one more time.   
I see that everyone has finished, so, Prefects! He directed, lead your students to your common room. Sleep well, classes begin in the morning.  
  
Dumbledore's voice jerked Molly back to her senses. She was starting her classes tomorrow! She couldn't believe it. Transfiguration and charms and potions...   
Brook waved her hand in front of Molly's face, Where did you go? Molly sighed,   
Brook grunted softly in disbelief,  
Trust me, she said blandly, one week of school and you'll wonder why you ever wanted to come here. It's all work from what I can tell from my parents' talk. She shook her head at Molly and pulled her up and they followed Louisa Weasley and the rest of the Gryffindors down the corridor.  
  
The journey to Gryffindor tower was long and tiring and by the time they stopped in front of a painting of a rather fat lady, they were all ready for bed. Louisa turned to them all with a sleepy but authoritative look, Listen, now. She glared at a group of first year boys who had been talking, the password is Aluminum Linoleum' until further notice. The portrait swung open, and Molly and Brook had their first looks at the Gryffindor common room.   
Four large billowy couches were crowded around a huge fireplace and a deep mahogany table. There were more tables scattered about and chairs with scarlet cushions surrounding them. Paintings were hanging on the walls in no particular order, but most contained a handsome man with a large nose with a shield labeled Godric Gryffindor' or the Gryffindor lion. A few windows provided a view of the starry night sky and torches from the walls shed a flickering light upon the room.  
Pretty amazing, isn't it? Phil Weasley said from beside Molly. She smiled, thinking that she would be living here for the better part of the next seven years, she returned, Molly yawned in spite of her excitement. It had been a long day, she decided, and tugged on Brook's sleeve, pulling her toward a sign that read, dormitories' and pointed up a stairway.   
When they found their way into their room, they discovered that it was already occupied. Three girls were unpacking their things and making their beds. They each turned as Molly and Brook entered, but the one closest to the doorway was first to speak.  
She said with a bright smile an Irish accent, My name's Darcy Finnagin, Darcy had virtually the same build as Brook, tall and skinny, but she had long straight black hair and hazel eyes where Brook was a blue-eyed blond. Molly introduced herself and Brook and faced the other two girls. They were Jenica Madley, a bubbly girl with alert brown eyes and honey-brown hair that fell in tight ringlets, and Allison Jordan, a pretty black girl with dark eyes and dimples.   
They talked a little as they unpacked, about what they thought would be their best classes, and rumors about teachers, but after a while they all fell silent and crawled into bed. Sleep came quickly and easily for all of them, and it was morning before Molly knew it.   
  
She opened her eyes; the sun was shining in through her window, lighting up the whole room. _That's kind of weird _, she thought, _it's not normally so bright this early._ She made a sleepy grab at her watch on the night stand, took one look at it and groaned. She was late. On her first day of school, she was late. No one else was in the room, so she ran to her trunk and pulled out a pair of khaki shorts and a pink top. She threw her black cloak on and ran down the stairs.   
She raced through corridor after corridor, but she couldn't seem to get anywhere. Suddenly, she tripped. Her knee smacked into something cold and metal. She looked at it. It was a hand mirror. Shining silver vines twisted their way around the edges, what appeared to be bright green emeralds shimmered as leaves, and the mirror itself was completely perfect, without a scratch on it. She gazed transfixed into its depths, and gold galleons began to fall out of the sky all around her. Rainbows formed and encircled her. She laughed. Someone laughed with her. Molly, Molly, she said,   
She closed her eyes, letting the beautiful voice ring in her ears. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled for whoever was calling her. It was Brook, looking very frustrated, _You're going to be late_. Jenica, Darcy, and Allyson were standing behind Brook looking worried.   
Brook, c'mon, Darcy said impatiently, just cuz Molly's gonna be late doesn't mean we have to be. Brook nodded.   
You better hurry, she said to Molly. She started to turn but then added, We've got Transfiguration with Hufflepuffs first; second floor, third corridor. I've heard Professor Dale isn't very kind when people are tardy. Hurry. She scurried out the door with the other girls and left Molly alone in the room to change.   
Deja vu, she muttered to herself under her breath as she pulled on her pink top and khaki shorts.   
  
Molly dashed out the door with seven minutes to make it to class. She came back two minutes later, realizing that she had forgotten her purse, and two minutes after that when she remembered she had to bring her books to class. _There is no way!_ She thought, screaming inside her head, _No way can I get down three floors and over two corridors in three minutes._ She sprinted anyway.   
Down the first flight of stairs... two minutes and thirty seconds... down the second flight... two minutes and eight seconds... third flight... one minute and forty-two seconds... over one corridor... one minute and five--- CRASH!!!   
Molly smacked into the hard wood floor, her books scattering all over the floor. She cried loudly, though there was no one to hear. No, no, NO! She flung her arms out and scraped up all the papers she could and grabbed her book roughly by the spine. As she struggled to her feet, she threw a backward glance at the scrolls she was about to abandon and stopped dead in her tracks.   
The seconds slowed down. She could feel her heart beating sluggishly and her mouth dropping open, centimeter by centimeter. She hadn't fallen. She had tripped. She had tripped on a small hand mirror with emerald leaves and silver vines. Her thoughts were delayed confused as she reached her hand out to the mirror. Oh my God, she mumbled aloud, gazing into its depths.   
She watched as piles of Galleons fell in the glass. Rainbows circled in it. But no one laughed, and no one woke her up.  
  
she heard a voice that was almost mechanical but somehow still silky and educated. Molly blinked twice and stared at the mirror again. A face had appeared; a face unlike any other she'd ever seen. Eyes that held all the colors of twilight stared out at her from under long, dark eyelashes and waving silvery-blond hair. The lady smiled a smile so beautiful and pristine that Molly smiled back without thinking. Her face was perfect; the face that every girl wishes she had and every boy wishes he could see. She laughed and Molly closed her eyes, focusing on the sound like birds singing all around her. the Lady in the Glass said again. Molly answered without thought, without protest, and without care,  
she said, though her voice sounded hard and cold next to the Lady in the Glass'. The Lady laughed again.   
If you perceive and don't believe, you cannot learn nor can you win. Molly felt her senses returning to normal.   
I believe, I believe, she cried as the image of the lady faded, afraid, for some reason, to let her go. But it was to late. The Lady's face swirled in a pearly mist and was gone.   
Molly realized where she was again and dropped the mirror, her hand shaking violently. It clanged loudly to the floor, but did not break. She thought of the Lady in the Glass and what she'd said, If you perceive and don't believe... she whispered, trailing off at the end.   
A throat cleared loudly behind her. She swiveled around and bit her lip in horror. Excuse me, came a low, cruel voice. It was the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle, who was famous for his love of giving detentions. She hastily shoved the mirror into her purse and smiled meekly at him. You wouldn't be attempting to cut your first class of the year, would you? Break the record, perhaps? Molly's mouth went dry, she had completely forgotten about class! Her face must have gone pale because Pringle turned the corners of his mouth in an evil grin.   
You'd better move. I'll be following you. If you're not in class when that bell sounds... he grinned again and Molly wrinkled her forehead in confusion. She turned her wrist and stared unbelievingly at her watch. It said she had three minutes to get to transfiguration.   
  
  
Molly slid into the room with windblown hair and red cheeks and only seconds to spare. A loud bell sounded and all of the doors slammed magically shut. Breathing heavily, Molly collapsed into an empty seat next to Brook and laid her head down on the desktop. She was trying to focus on catching her breath when she heard the attendance being called by a strangely familiar voice.   
Molly lifted her head up and saw Amos Diggory standing in front of the class. Her hands flew up to her hair, trying desperately to force it back into its pink ribbon without calling any attention to herself. She shot a look at Brook and leaned over to whisper to her,   
What's he doing here? Not sure whether to be happy or worried, she didn't wait for Brook's answer but hurried on, do I look okay? Brook looked as though she was about to say something, but instead jerked her head in the direction of the front of the room.   
Camden, Molly? Was being called and Amos' eyes were carefully searching the room. They landed on her and she put on what she hoped was an apologetic-but-adorable smile. He grinned back, winked and moved on down the list. Molly felt her heart flutter. She looked at Brook, whom had one eyebrow raised in question, and wrote clearly on her parchment in front of her, Isn't he the cutest?' Brook looked up at the front of the room, studied Amos for a moment, turned back to Molly and nodded, smiling. She took the parchment and scribbled in shiny purple ink, You go girl.' Molly couldn't help but giggle.   
  
As Amos went on with the roll call, Molly swiveled in her seat and whispered ecstatically to Brook, What's he doing here?! He's a third year, he told me so yesterday! Brook shrugged her shoulders indifferently,   
He hasn't done anything but call role yet. Why's it matter anyway? He's here. She turned her face back toward the podium where Amos stood, appreciating the view. Molly thought about it for a moment, decided that Brook was completely right, and joined her in goggling. She fell into a state where sighing was the only language, but was jogged out of it soon enough when she heard,  
Weasley, Arthur? being called. _Weasley_, she thought as she had last night, _was it this one that had beaten Lucius up, then? Or maybe the Hufflepuff one_... Her thoughts trailed off as she noticed Amos begin to move around down front. He cleared his throat and the class quieted.   
He said, and flashed a grin that made Molly's stomach lurch a little, My name is Amos Diggory. There were a few mumbled greetings scattered throughout the room and Amos went on, I'm a Hufflepuff third year, I've met a few of you already, his eyes brushed over Molly and a couple Hufflepuffs, but I'm sure I'll get to know you all soon. As I said, I'm a third year, but I'm rather advanced for my age when it comes to Transfiguration-- he was cut off by a tall man with musty brown hair and a five o'clock shadow that had emerged from the back room.   
the man said in a gruff voice, Ha! Damn near the best at it I've ever seen. Don't short yourself on credit, Diggory; if your good, say it! The man finished and began to dig through a pile of papers strewn about a large desk. He looked back up when the room remained silent and turned to Amos, Go on, then, Diggory. He motioned expectantly at him, and then walked back into the back room.   
Amos smiled, Professor Dale, he said with a glint in his eye, your new Transfiguration teacher. A few murmurs danced around the room, but Amos either ignored them or let them pass as normal. he continued, I'm already through with all of the Transfiguration I have to take to graduate, so Dumbledore and Dale thought it was a good idea for me to help some of the younger classes, and this is the period I have free.   
So you'll be here for all of our Transfiguration classes? Asked a small blond haired Hufflepuff girl from the back of the room. Amos nodded emphatically,   
Yeah, that's pretty much what it boils down to. Molly silently shouted for joy and sent an excited look to Brook, who beamed right back.   
  
The rest of the class period flew by. Amos (and occasionally Professor Dale) described to the students the art of transfiguration and gave them each the task of turning a needle into a match. Molly was successful on her fifth try, and received, to her delight, great praise from Amos as she was only the third in the room to accomplish it. Brook took most of the class period, but when she was finished her match was flawless; and Arthur Weasley was the very last to get done. He kept having problems splintering the wood before he could add the striking part and went through approximately thirty needles altogether. In the end, though, everyone was able to finish and Dale seemed very pleased.   
That is the first class of first years I've ever had get completed on their first lesson. He smiled benignly at them, and they beamed proudly back, until they heard what he said next, at least, And since you've done so well, I've thought of a special homework assignment for you. All the smiles wilted and Molly heard a Hufflepuff next to her give a loud groan, but Dale kept on, I want two rolls of parchment on The Art of Transfiguration and How it Affects our Lives' for next class. He nodded and said, That will be all, and retreated to his back room.   
Molly sank into her chair helplessly and chanced a distressed look at Amos. He laughed a little, That's Professor Dale for you: work, work, and if you finish, there's always more work. But two rolls shouldn't be too hard if you listened today. Molly smirked,   
Of course I listened, but this is only the first class of the day. I can't wait till Potions, I've heard Naphtha's just a peach. Amos chuckled,  
If you have that much work by the end of today, I'll help you with it. I haven't got this class to worry over anymore anyway. But I seriously doubt you'll have too much. Molly raised an eyebrow challengingly,   
Ha! I hope your right, but I _seriously_ doubt it. She mentally patted herself on the back and promised herself that if she didn't have that much homework by tonight, then she would find more. She glanced back up at Amos' smiling face. A lot more.   
  
They day passed faster than any other Molly could remember. It was packed full of new names, faces, and lessons and Molly was a little more than disappointed that she _wouldn't _ have to make up any homework assignments: her new professors had taken care of that perfectly. _On the one hand_, she thought lazily, _I will definitely be able to weasel my way into homework-help from Amos. On the other, I'll have to waste perfectly good flirting time actually doing work. _ She sighed and crawled into her four-poster bed.   
As she lie thinking of the crazy day and listening to the quiet breathing of her sleeping roommates, she remembered that morning. Molly sat up in bed so quickly that she almost caught her head in the lace curtains surrounding her. _This morning_! She thought desperately, _This morning she'd found the mirror! _Molly slid off her bed silently and tiptoed to the night stand, where she'd left her purse before going to bed. She carefully slipped her hand inside it and felt around. _I must have imagined it,_she thought, just a bit hopefully,_I dreamed it this morning and got confused when I was running to class._ She was trying to convince herself, and it was working, _Exactly, _thought a rational voice in her head, _I just projected my dream onto....._ Her hand grazed over something cold and metal in her purse that not even the voices in her head could deny.   
Her arm began to tremble as she pulled the mirror from her purse. It was exactly as it had been that morning, exactly as it had been in her dream. Silver vines still twined around the edges and green gems still glinted where leaves should be, and a pearly mist was still swirling in the glass.   
Molly didn't look into it. She moved her gaze firmly away from the glass and back to the framework. It was old, she noted. Not that it was scratched or rusted, but it had an air that only antiques could provide anymore. She traced the vines around the edges and turned the mirror in her palm. She blinked her eyes once and then drew her eyebrows together. There was writing on the back; a curvy script that formed into words she had never seen before:  
SEM   
La Rorrim den Nogrog  
Euryale  
Molly sounded out the words in a whisper, La Ro-rym den Naag-rawg Yuri-ale. She gasped and her hand trembled even more violently. Something was happening.   
The air was growing thinner and Molly felt as though she was slowly suffocating. The dormitory around her was fading to blackness and her legs and arms tingled from lack of oxygen. Molly's head felt light, but she could hear a sound like the jingling of tiny bells far away. Then she felt herself slip from consciousness.   
She didn't know how long she'd been out, or what time it was now; but her left arm felt as though the bone had split in two and her back like it had been pierced by thousands of needles. She groaned and opened her eyes painfully, then let out a gasp that would have bounced off the walls and echoed a million times. . . had there been any walls.  
Molly shut her eyes and opened them again in disbelief. Not only were there not any walls-- there was not any _anything._ She was surrounded by a blinding whiteness, like being on an acre of land covered in nothing but snow. Only there was no snow. And she wasn't cold. She wasn't hot either, in fact, all of her senses but one seemed to have failed her: she could hear a far off jingling. But it wasn't even normal jingling that had no specific pattern and just rang, it was consistent, repetitive, monotonous. _Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing. Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing. _And it kept getting louder.  
  
_Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing   
Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing  
  
_Molly clapped her hands over her ears and screamed. No sound came... only jingling. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and began to shake all over, but only jingling answered. Her breathing became fast and her heart began to race. The tears spilled over.   
_Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing Jing-Jing-_rest-rest-_Jing-Jing-Jing.   
_Help me! She cried, pressing her hands tightly over her ears. The jingling stopped, and a silky voice laughed.  



	3. Nogrog

Molly stopped breathing. She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Is-- is somebody there? Silent terrified tears were still leaking down her cheeks. The voice laughed again; only this time it didn't stop, it grew louder and louder until the roaring felt like it would split her eardrums. She shrieked and sunk to the invisible-white ground shuddering.  
The laughter subsided and a voice, silky and educated, filled the silence, I'm sorry, Molly. Molly lifted her head. She had only heard the voice twice before but knew that she could never forget it. She couldn't speak. I'm sorry, the voice repeated, I didn't mean to frighten you, Molly. Even as her last tears dripped off her chin, she felt reassured. The voice was somehow soothing and she heard her own voice, braver than she could have believed, ask,   
Why did you laugh? There was a pause, but then the Lady in the Glass' voice came as soothingly as before,   
I'm sorry, Molly. Molly stared into the blank space, listening hard,   
Where are you? She hesitated for a moment and then asked, Where am _I_?  
  
the voice replied, am standing beside you, Molly gasped slightly in shock and tried to interject, but the voice went on, and you, little Molly, have found your way into Nogrog.   
  
Molly said nothing. She didn't know what she could say. The voice remained silent, for a moment too, but Molly could swear she could feel the waves of agitation floating in the air. The voice, now confused and a bit frusterated-sounding, spoke,  
How, little child, have you come to be here? Nogrog is not an unguarded place, and one whom we have not invited has not walked here for thousands of years. So I ask you again, how is it that you come to be here? Molly hesitated. Something didn't feel quite right. She decided quickly but firmly not to say anything about the mirror. Not, at least, until she knew more about this place, and the person she was speaking with.   
I---I don't know, she improvised quickly, I was just . . lying on my bed and everything started to spin and I got really scared and started to cry. Then the lights went out and I woke up here. She heard a few rapid whispers and realized, suddenly, that the person she was speaking with was not the only one listening to the conversation.   
Nothing else? The voice encouraged.  
Molly managed.  
the Lady's voice said, sounding completely mystified, perhaps you were meant to be here. Perhaps you can be the one to help us. Molly wrinkled her forehead,   
What do you mean? She frowned a little skeptically and asked the thing that had been bothering her the most, how do you know my name? There was a short light giggle,   
Oh! Don't you know? I am--- The voice was swallowed in what sounded like a hiccup and everything went a bright jade-green. Molly yelped in pain and squeezed her eyes shut, but she felt the ground begin to spin again as a far off jingling filled her ears.   
  
Molly opened her eyes into slits and gasped. She was staring up at the lace curtains of her four-poster bed. Sweat was dripping down her face. She took a calming breath and looked at the small clock she'd fund in a shop in Diagon Alley that now sat on her night stand. A long purple hand that read, was pointing toward but as she yawned and swung her feet around to the floor it slowly drifted to   
Molly tiptoed over to the window and jerked it open as silently as she could, hoping for a breath of fresh air. She stared out into the darkness. It couldn't be later than 1 or 2 in the morning. She shuddered a little and thought about the events of that night. A breeze drifted in through the window and someone stirred in their bed behind Molly. She turned. Jenica was sitting up in her four-poster, yawning widely,   
Hey Molly, what're you up to? She shook her curls out of her eyes and stretched in a very catlike way. Molly wrinkled her forehead, sighing,   
You might as well wake the others up too; I don't want to explain it more than once. Jenica yawned again and shrugged,  
Alright, but I'm warning you, Darcy isn't a pleasant waker.   
  
Molly pulled a furry blue robe out of her trunk and wrapped it around herself, shivering. She sunk onto her bed, pulled her knees up to her chest, and rested her head gently on the pillow made by her arms. _It wasn't a dream_, she thought, trying to clear the muddle that seemed to be clogging her brain. _It couldn't have been a dream. It was too real. Besides, _she reflected, growing more perplexed by the minute, _If I'd dreamed it all there would be no mirror. _And there definitely was a mirror. She watched it through the corner of her eye. There it sat, on her pillow, silver and ancient and beautiful, but completely invisible as anything out of the ordinary except for the pearly mist swirling in the glass.   
The worried voice startled her from her thoughts. Brook, Allyson, Darcy, and Jenica were huddled around her, all looking tired and confused. Molly only stared at them and Darcy groaned.   
I _really _ hope that you did not have me woken up a two in the morning for no reason at all. I _really _hope not. Molly shook her head, both to tell Darcy she did have a reason and to attempt to clear her mind. It didn't work. She fell back into wondering about Nogrog and the Lady in the Glass. _What had she been about to say? _She couldn't get it off her mind, _Don't you know, I am...' what_? _What was she? How did they know her name? Why did they need help?_  
Came Brook's voice again, are you okay? You look kind of pale... Brook trailed off at a look from Jenica,  
I think she's really got something important to tell us. She said sending a glare to Darcy, who was making impatient noises. Don't you? Jenica questioned, embarrassedly after a few moments silence from Molly and raised eyebrows from Brook. Molly woke from her thoughts once more and nodded her head, this time ready to explain.   
I remembered tonight-- She paused, wondering where to start, and decided the beginning was always the best place. She took a deep breath, Remember when you guys woke me up this morning? They nodded and Molly launched into the tale, ending twenty minutes later with, And I opened my eyes and I was here, lying on my bed. She stopped, suddenly silent and wondering how completely stupid she had sounded. No one said a word, they just sat, gaping at Molly as though she was an alien. Molly bit her lip, you believe me, don't you?   
  
They all seemed to see Molly for the first time and Of course! Why shouldn't we? burst out at once. Molly felt a mountain of stress slip from her shoulders: they trusted her. Slowly, however, her eyes drifted to Allyson. She had only heard three responses, and she knew who had been the only person not to say a word tonight.   
You believe me, don't you Allyson? She was now violently inadvertently ripping the fur lining off of her robe. Allyson gave Molly a sort of appraising look,   
Yeah. I believe you. I'm just trying to figure it out. I mean, do you understand it? You're _positive _ it wasn't a dream? Molly had been waiting for this. She let her knees go and reached carefully over Darcy's head to her pillow.   
The metal of the mirror's handle was cold under Molly's fingers as she handed it softly to Allyson. I'm pretty positive, she responded. Allyson's mouth gaped open.   
It's so beautiful! Brook, Jenica, and Darcy crowded around to see, but Molly gasped. Allyson's face had gone slack and pale, her hand was trembling, and her eyes were wide, staring into the glass.  
  
The other four girls stared at Allyson in horror. They watched as she lifted the mirror as close to her face as she could and her lips silently formed the words, Who's there? They watched as she listened for a moment, and as her face whitened in fear. They watched her eyes grow even wider than before and her mouth open for a scream that would have been the most bloodcurdling noise any of them had ever heard, had she made a noise. Then they watched their friend collapse to the floor, convulsing.   
Darcy rushed over, shaking Allyson in a desperate attempt to wake her. Allyson stopped moving. She opened her eyes, once they had been brown, but now they were as pale as water, and tears were flowing freely from them. She looked up at Darcy, who still had one had protectively placed on her shoulder,  
She couldn't seem to speak. Darcy turned her livid hazel eyes onto Molly, sparks practically flying from them,  
I don't know what you did, you cruel... you aweful...you... She seemed at a loss for words as well, Whatever you did, you'll pay. That was the cruelest joke I've ever seen anyone play on anyone. And if you think for one second that you're going to get away with it... She let out a breath of air in a snarl, then you don't know me well enough. Darcy grabbed Allyson's hand, pulled her to her feet, and dragged her out of the room, still crying in fear.   
  
Molly watched the door snap shut with a wince. Brook sighed beside her. Do you have any idea what just happened? Molly asked. Jenica rustled in her spot on the floor,  
Darcy got mad without knowing the facts, which she does a lot. And They left. Brook made a cynical sort of snort,  
I really don't know where she thinks they're going, I mean, it's three o'clock in the morning. Molly muffled a small giggle under her hand, but Jenica waved it off,  
Darcy's really popular because of her sisters, she'll probably just camp out in one of her older friends' rooms. Molly shrugged her shoulders, more to try to drop the weight that was sitting on them than to reply to Jenica. She turned to the two girls beside her,  
So what really just happened? Brook and Jenica both raised their eyebrows in question,   
We were thinking you could tell us, Brook answered, expectation in her voice. Jenica was looking at her quizzically, too.  
Why'd you do that, Molly? Molly felt her jaw drop,  
You don't think I did that? Why would I. . . How could I. . . . .? She goggled at her friends, I've only had one day of lessons. . How. . how. . . She was speechless. Brook seemed to come to her senses rather quickly.   
Thank goodness. I was so worried I would have to hate you or something. Molly's wanted to drop her jaw more at this, but she kept it in check and swallowed the urge to kick Brook hard in the stomach. So what did happen? Brook asked, a confused and terrified look coming into her eyes for the first time. Molly shook her head incredulously,  
That's what I've been trying to ask you!  



	4. Peanut Butter and a Dove

Forty-five minutes later, the three girls had gotten nowhere. Brook and Jenica had had Molly repeat her story five times, and Jenica was now speaking slowly, calmly, and not very brightly, So let's assume all the stuff you said really happened, and you were in Norgog--  
Molly interrupted, impatiently.   
Whatever. You were really there and the mirror took you there and all. What happened to Allyson just now? Molly dropped her hands in a defeated gesture, got to her feet and said,   
Let's just go find Allyson. She's the only one who knows. Brook clambered to her feet as well, but Jenica hesitated,  
You don't know Darcy, she will still be fuming. Molly rolled her eyes,  
Fine. Stay here. Go to bed. Leave us alone. Whatever. We're going to find them. Jenica made regal face and tossed her hair, turning back toward her bed.   
She shouted. Molly rolled her eyes again,  
She walked to the door and waved at Brook to follow.  
  
  
They stepped into the hallway and walked straight into two large objects, which turned out to be Darcy and Allyson. Darcy's face contorted,  
What are you doing? Off to play tricks on someone else? She snapped. Molly sighed and tried to shake her head no in denial, but she was distracted by Allyson. Her face was red and splotchy, but looking and Darcy and silently pleading for her to stop.   
I told you, Darse, there's no way Molly could've done that. She's only had one day of lessons in her whole life!Darcy snarled,   
You don't even know what hit you, do you? She's more powerful than I thought! Allyson shook her head back and forth again, pleading,   
I think you've got it all wrong, Darcy... I just can't believe-- Darcy cut her off, fuming,  
Fine! Stay here with them. But don't come crying to me when they hurt you again. You'll see, you're wrong! Darcy stormed into the dormitory and shut the door with a loud crack. Allyson turned to Molly and Brook, looking helpless,  
I'm really sorry, I've been trying to get her to let me come talk to you all night. The thing with Darcy is that once she's got an idea in her head, no matter how dumb, she'll never admit she's wrong. She knows going off at you like that was stupid, but she's kind of a git sometimes. Brook let out a loud grunt,   
Molly ignored her.  
Allyson, we need to talk, she said, biting her lip as Allyson glanced at her watch, which must have showed her that it was nearing four in the morning. She already had dark circles under her splotchy eyes, and tension was showing in every line of her face. Molly sighed, Do you want to put it off until tomorrow? Allyson shut her eyes and let out a deep breath,   
No, let's get it over with now. I don't want to tell the story again. She gave a brave sort of half smile and sat down, right in the hallway. Okay, where should I start? She wondered aloud and Molly quickly answered her,  
What did you see in the mirror? Allyson winced,   
All of it?   
All of it. Molly repeated, assuming the position of authority momentarily.  
She took one last steadying breath and plunged head first into her story, When you handed me the mirror, three things happened at once: I saw it as an old mirror, antique, pretty, but just a mirror, then my breath got really short for no reason, and then a white sort of mist started spinning around in the glass. That's when I said it was beautiful. The all the sudden, the spinning stopped and three faces appeared. They were are really beautiful women, blond, blue eyes, kinda regal looking, ya know? But all of the sudden they sort of looked angry and their faces scrunched all up and they turned into snakes and they started killing things, I don't even remember what, I just remember blood and screaming. But out of nowhere a white horse came flying in and it trampled on one of the snakes. It all looked like it was going to be okay, but then it ran off before it killed the other two. And they twisted together and turned into a dagger and stabbed the dead snake and started to drink it's blood and apparated to Hogwarts. It was all dark and stormy and Dumbledore was there protecting all the students from something really big. For a minute it looked like the two snakes, but then it changed. It turned into a man with red snake eyes and slits for a nose. He came up behind Dumbledore and almost stabbed him in the back with that same dagger, but a beautiful lady appeared and saved him with some sort of blue light. Then the Snake Man turned on her and sucked all of her powers out of her and he turned bright green and she fell to the ground, dead. All of the students screamed and Hogwarts crumbled down to the ground and dark shadows rose up and everything went all dark... and I think that's when I passed out.  
  
Molly's mouth had gone dry, and beside her Brook's voice shook as she spoke,   
What does it mean? Allyson shook her head dazedly, her eyes were filled with tears again, and the dark circles were more apparent than ever. You don't think, Brook said quietly, voicing their worst fear, it could. . that it could show the future, do you? I mean, that's impossible, right? Molly bit her lip, wishing that she could start the day over again and never find the mirror,   
I don't know... She looked at her watch and back up at Allyson's face, It's almost 4:30, why don't we get a few hours sleep and talk about it in the morning? The other two nodded in silent assent.   
  
As they climbed into bed, Allyson hesitated, Do you reckon we should tell Professor Dumbledore?   
I don't know, Molly said again. She felt like she didn't know anything anymore. I don't want to bother him unless we know it's important... Let's talk about it tomorrow.   
Molly sank into bed and felt a sudden exhaustion sweep over her. She closed her eyes and fell to sleep instantly; it had been a really long day.  
  
Molly opened her eyes as the first rays of daylight flashed into the room. She checked her watch. It was 6 AM. She'd only slept for and hour and a half, and she was more tired than she could remember being in her life. She yawned widely and sat up in bed. _Might as well get up,_ she thought sadly and dragged herself out of bed. None of the other girls were awake yet and she saw no reason to ruin their sleep too, so she pulled on a light blue sleeveless dress, grabbed her robes, and headed to the down the stairs.   
The common room was completely empty except for a crackling fire that someone had lit sometime before dawn. She decided that it was still too early to go to breakfast so she grabbed a _Witch Weekly_ magazine off the coffee table and made to curl up in a large armchair. She didn't however, as she realized, with a loud gasp, that it was already occupied. Arthur Weasley, who had been enjoying the early morning silence to read up on Quidditch, flew out of his chair at the noise beside him. He turned and saw Molly and his ears turned a surprising shade of pink,   
Sorry. . I,er, didn't see you come up. Molly smiled as much as her tired features would let her,   
I noticed. Arthur's ears turned even pinker. Molly held back a giggle and stuck out her hand,   
Molly Camden. You're Arthur Weasley, right?   
he took her hand with a slightly baffled look on his face. This time Molly laughed out loud,   
I talked to you're brother Phil yesterday and he, er, told me the entire family history, I think. Arthur rolled his eyes,   
I should've known. That git couldn't shut up if his life depended on it. Molly laughed again,   
Want to go down and get breakfast? I don't really want to be down there alone, but if I go to late Darcy and Jenica will be there and... well. . we had a bit of a row last night. Arthur's ears regained their pinkish tone, but he nodded and led the way to the Great Hall.  
  
Molly and Arthur were the first to arrive in the Hall, it being only the second day of school and all normal students tired. Why are you up so early? Arthur had asked Molly as they sat down. She'd simply spoken the truth,   
Couldn't sleep.  
Me neither, he answered on a sigh. They'd discussed their lessons the day before, particularly Transfiguration. Arthur seemed completely baffled at the fact that Amos was only in his third year and had completed all of his Transfiguration Credits already. I mean, it's really hard, he said. They both went suddenly pink at the ears, Arthur, remembering had been the last to finish match-switching, and Molly, remembering Amos. They changed topics rather awkwardly.   
The breakfast, however, was one of the more enjoyable Molly could remember having. Being introduced to numerous friends of Arthur's as they came to eat, and introducing her own friends as they came in as well (apart from Jenica and Darcy, who had seated themselves firmly away from the group), was surprisingly entertaining. They only realized that they had classes to get to when an extra-greasy looking Professor Naphtha came and reminded them that if they were late to her class they would sorely regret it. They'd all groaned and filed regretfully down the stairs that led to the Potions Hall.   
  
Potions was, Molly thought, extremely stupid. The only thing that appeared remotely interesting, she had mused as she flipped through her text book, was the chapter at the end on Love, Beauty, and Body Potions, however, the first thing that Naphtha had informed them was that the last chapter was a waste of time, and they would be skipping it entirely. Molly had moaned and sunk glumly into her seat.   
Potions passed slowly, but uneventfully. On emerging from the room, the sleepy Gryffindors had taken out their schedules only to see that their next class was Herbology with Slytherins. Brook had said beside Molly, now we get to go spend an hour watching plants grow with a bunch of half-brains. I think I'm going to die. She had proceeded to fake death and fall onto Molly's shoulder, giving Molly what seemed like the only comedy relief she was likely to get for the rest of the day.  
  
Herbology itself didn't turn out quite as bad as Brook had described. In fact, Molly kind of liked it. I'm going to have a great garden when I grow up, she whispered to Allyson during the lecture. Full of beautiful plants and wild rabbits and things. Professor Phelps, a small man with white tufts of hair and beady, but benign eyes had overheard her.  
Miss. . ah, Camden, is it? Molly had nodded, hoping that she wouldn't lose points for Gryffindor on her second day, It would be careless, as your Herbology teacher, to let you run around for your whole young life with such misconceptions in your head. Beautiful plants, I'm afraid, are rarely practical or present in a proper wizard or witch's garden. In fact, most beautiful plants,' as you will come to see this year, are poisonous, cursed, or not real. As far as wild rabbits, my dear, the most you will see of wildlife in a garden in this part of the world will be garden gnomes. A few around the room snickered simply at the prospect of gnomes, Which brings us to our first chapter, Professor Phelps went on, Gnomes, gnats, and the like: Destroyers of precious plants. Now if you'll turn to page eleven of your text, it clearly states that the Prefundicus Flower of Southern London is the favorite home of Garden Gnomes. . . Phelps' voice droned on, and Molly soon regretted ever thinking that Herbology might be fun.   
By the end of the hour, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike had fallen into a kind of stupor that only an incredibly boring lecture could create. They slumped out of the greenhouse like zombies, their eyes glazed over. . . all except two. Two Slytherins seeming especially cheery, considering the state that everyone else was in, crept up behind Molly and Brook.   
Molly screamed. Something cold and extremely slimy had just spilled onto her hair and was dribbling down. Beside her Brook was gasping furiously. Molly wheeled around to see Lucius Malfoy and a tall brown haired Slytherin named Nott snorting with laughter. She tried to wipe the blue goop that was sliding through her hair off with her hand, which stuck to her hair painfully and only caused Malfoy and Nott to double up in their laughter,  
That's for you, Andrews. Don't mess with a Malfoy. Arthur Weasley stepped out from the crowd that had formed around them. His ears were bright red again, but this time his expression was far from embarrassed, it was ferocious. He drew out his wand, daring Malfoy to speak. But Nott moved quickly. He flicked Arthur's wand out of his hand and Malfoy choked out more laughter. What Weasley? Did you think they would pay you if you saved them? Nott guffawed and the two ran off, dropping Arthur's wand on the way.  
Molly stood, blue slime dripping down her back hand one hand stuck to her hair, watching Malfoy and Nott disappear in the distance. Oh my gosh! Much more goop had hit Brook than Molly, and she as now in tears that looked very likely to turn to anger soon. The crowd around the girls starred on, either sympathetically, if they were Gryffindors, or humorously, if they were Slytherins. A few exceptionally stupid Slytherins in the back broke out into loud chortles of laughter, and Arthur blew up,  
GET OUT OF HERE! He shouted, and everyone froze. The Slytherins backed away a little. Arthur rolled up his sleeves, I don't need my wand to make you sorry. The Slytherins snorted cynically, but seemed to get the point and followed the direction that Malfoy and Nott had taken. The crowd, possibly a bit frightened of Arthur, broke up rather quickly, and left only Brook, Molly, Arthur, and Allyson. Arthur turned to the girls who had both turned a violent violet in their goopiness. Are you guys okay? Molly smiled weekly,  
Well, we're. . . a little sticky. This was an understatement, as, in her rage Brook had attempted to chase Malfoy and now, not only her hands were stuck together, but her elbow was connected to her knee, her left ear to her shoulder, and her shoe had somehow become cemented to her thigh. She whimpered.   
Come on, let's get you to the nurse, then, he gave a meaningful look to Allyson and they grabbed Brook by the armpits and helped her hop along to the Hospital Wing with Molly following behind, one hand eternally on the back of her head.  
  
They made it to the nurse's office after a lot of weird looks from students passing in the hallway and not a few snickers from malicious Slytherins. Madam Pomfrey asked no questions and went straight to her work. she muttered impressively to herself, Diluted Prefundicus Sap. Very tricky to untangle, requires a very simple and unclean remedy, I'm afraid. Very unmagical, in fact. But, what must be done... She scampered off to her back room containing supplies and Molly and Brook looked at each other nervously.   
Brook asked, a note of distress playing in her voice. Molly tried to look undaunted,  
Hey, don't worry, I mean, we can't get much messier, can we?  
  
Molly was wrong. The turned out to be a large vat of very sticky, very smelly peanut butter. Molly groaned and felt Madam Pomfrey slap another wad of the butter onto her head. She felt like a giant, slimy, peanut butter cookie. She turned to look at Brook, who, she had to admit, was much worse off than she. Brook was covered head to toe in the brown muck and was staring back at Molly, eyes pleading. Madam Pomfrey caught the glance between the two girls,  
Don't' worry, she said soothingly, it will only take one or two warm showers to get it all off, and you'll be good as new. I'd like you to stay here overnight, though, just to make sure you don't try to wash it off too soon. I'm sure you understand, Molly groaned again, flopping onto her white bed on her stomach.   
  
It had taken four showers. And three days later, Molly still stunk of peanut butter. Apparently the Prefundicus Sap had been much stronger than Madam Pomfrey had originally thought. Brook had needed seven steaming showers to remove all of her butter, and realized as soon as it was all off, that the Sap was not. Madam Pomfrey had had to threaten her with a stunning spell before Brook would allow her to reapply the peanut butter and go back to bed. Molly couldn't help but giggle a little at the memory, even though she knew how disgusting it felt to have peanut butter between her toes (she'd accidentally stepped in a loose pile of it on her way to her first shower).   
Molly headed down the Gryffindor Tower stairs and toward the corridor that lead to the Hospital Wing. Gray light was still just beginning to show through the windows, and she could hear the twittering early morning birds. Brook was supposed to be released today, and Molly was completely excited. Allyson was a sweet person, but she just didn't have the element of fun and excitement that Brook seemed to take with her everywhere. Plus, today Gryffindor first years not only had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, in which Professor Alcott was rumored to be amazing, but they had their second Transfiguration lesson. Molly hadn't seen Amos since their first lesson, as she'd been covered in peanut butter one night and preoccupied with Brook the next. She pushed open the white door of Madam Pomfrey's room and stopped in her tracks.   
Brook was peanut butter free and laughing, sitting on her bed. Sitting in a group composed of Jenica Madley, Darcy Finnagin, Allyson Jordan, and Amos Diggory. They all burst out into laughter again. Can you believe her? Darcy was saying, Thinking we you actually _like _her?! Molly felt like she'd been awakened by a blast of ice water. She spun on her heel and ran out of the room, her green eyes filled with tears. As she rounded the corner that led to Gryffindor Tower, eyes blinded by her tears, she smashed into a very solid object.   
  
Arthur's worried voice came from somewhere above her head, what's wrong? Molly glanced up for a moment at the concerned look on his face and buried her own face in her hands, sobbing. Are you okay? Molly tried to answer, but a lump in her throat contracted and all she could manage was,  
She pushed her chestnut hair off her wet cheeks and ran all the way back to Gryffindor tower. the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open before Molly could choke out the password. The bright red hair of Phil Weasley emerged, followed by two of his friends.   
Molly? Has something happened? Molly couldn't look him in the eyes. More tears flooded over and she spun around, fleeing blindly to wherever her feet took her.  
Three flights of stairs and countless corridors later, Molly found herself in the entrance to the Great Hall. She crashed through the enormous doors, flew out onto the grounds, and flung herself hopelessly under the branches of an enormous willow tree. She couldn't think. She couldn't move. _How? How could they all hate her?Was everything just some sort of horrible joke? Brook and Molly and Amos? Had they all just been playing along with Jenica and Darcy, seeing how stupid she could be? What had she ever done to them?! _Molly felt like she wept under the oak tree for hours. When she finally lifted her head the sky was a flamingo pink and she felt weak and shaky. She lifted her hands up to her cheeks and wiped them dry hastily, feeling ashamed for falling to pieces. Molly nearly cracked her head open, jumping up, when a voice spoke from above her.  
There, now, you feel better now don't you? A good cry always helps. It can't have been that bad. Heart still beating furiously in her chest, Molly peered into the branches above her. A small dove was perched to her right, speaking as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Molly blinked in amazement,  
You can talk. It was more of a startled statement than a question, but the bird replied, laughing,  
So can you. For a brief moment, Molly forgot about all of her problems, simply in awe of the creature before her. The bird, however, did not forget,  
Now. You've calmed down a bit. Mind telling me what could have made you so sad? Molly felt her cheeks, still damp, go pink. It had been bad enough without having someone know about her little tantrum, but this. . .   
Go on, the dove persisted, I won't tell. I pride myself on being a rather good listener, too. Molly opened her mouth, a bit hesitant, but the bird cocked it's head curiously, and Molly told it everything. Everything from meeting Amos, to finding the mirror on the first day of classes, to going to Nogrog, and finally to the betrayal of her Through her whole story, the bird listened patiently, politely, and Molly went on. When she finished, Molly felt as though a ton of bricks she'd been carrying had been placed neatly on the ground. The dove sighed, a very human sound, and spoke to Molly, a note of distress in its voice, When I was a little girl, my very best friend in the world lied to me for three months. I was unhappy because she was dating a boy that I didn't approve of, a situation I didn't approve of really, and so she told me that she had ended the relationship. We carried on like we had before the boy for the three months, but it always seemed to me like there was something that she--and the rest of our group-- was keeping from me. Finally one day, when I had confided in her about a boy that I had a particular soft spot for, she told me that she was still dating the boy-- and that the rest of our friends had kept the secret from me as well. I was devastated. Not only because my best friend had lied to me, but because all of my other friends had let me believe the lie, even though they knew better. All I could see was that they valued their friendship with her more than their friendship with me. I stopped speaking to all of them. I had no friends to turn to, and so I became my own friend. When I finally spoke to them again, it wasn't the same. I forgave them, but I never felt that trust and confidence in them that I had before. It took me years to realize that my friends' faith to my best friend and their dishonesty to me did not mean they valued her friendship more than mine, but that they valued promises and truth. I was able to reconcile completely with all of them except for the one, because I would not change my opinion about the boy. I knew I was right, and I was in the end. Perhaps your friends do not hate you. Is it possible that they simply like this Darcy--she is the ringleader,' I presume-- as well? That their friendship to her is simply strong in a different way than it is to yours? Molly was still trying to digest the story. Was it possible that Brook and Allyson and Amos had only laughed at Darcy's comments because they wanted to be friends with her too?   
_Can you believe her? Thinking we actually like her? _The voice echoed in her head and tears slowly began to leak down her cheeks again. She shouted, No. Friends can't laugh like that at their friends! Friends stand up for each other till the end! Friends are always friends! Molly began to sob again, burying her face in her hands once more. I want to go home! I never want to see them again! The dove sighed above her again,   
That is the same conclusion I came to. But I went back to school just the same. Molly stifled her sobs for a moment,   
You went to school? She had drawn her eyebrows together, not understanding at all. But you're a _bird._ For the third time, the bird let out a very unbird-like sigh.   
No, my dear, I'm not.  



	5. The Task

Molly's stomach plummeted. _Oh my God, _she thought desperately, _how could I have been so stupid? _She couldn't understand what she had been thinking. She was at _Hogwarts._ A talking bird wasn't normal anyway, but _here! _She closed her eyes, hiding from her stupidity. _Animagi._ Was all she could think. Some person that had the power to change into a dove. _But who? _ She thought, biting her lip. She opened her eyes and cringed. Who are you? She asked, a bit of a tremor in her voice. _Oh please, _she thought, fear spreading throughout her limbs, _please don't let it be someone I know... or someone I'll see. _She bit down harder on her lip, hoping against hope that she hadn't spilled her life story to someone who would make her regret it.   
The bird fluttered softly to the ground. It didn't say another word, but Molly knew what was coming. It was going to transform. Her hands shook as she waited. Very slowly, as if in slow motion, the bird began to expand. It's claws changed to feet, and it's wings molted and molded into the shape of arms. The bright white crown feathers faded and to a honey color, and the beady black eyes widened into sapphires.  
Molly swallowed hard. She had never seen the woman before her in her life, but that didn't mean anything. She took a deep breath, fear still swirling in her stomach. Who are you? she repeated, and this time the woman answered.  
Don't worry, Molly. I'm not going to tell anyone about anything you said to me today. Molly released the breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. She waited nervously for the woman to answer her question. My same is Honest Borchardt. I am the head of the Department of Magical Lore and Ancient Artifacts for the Ministry of Magic. The tension finally slipped out of Molly's muscles. It didn't matter what she knew, she couldn't be here for very long, and there was no one for her to tell. Molly drew her eyebrows back together for a moment, a question popping into her brain, along with some uncertainty again,  
Why are you here? Honest smiled knowingly,   
Professor Grolier has taken ill. I've just come to help out for a few weeks while he recovers.   
Professor Grolier? She asked, puzzled. I've never heard of him. Honest smiled again,  
I'm not surprised. You're only a first year, and Willard teaches the Mythology class, which is only offered to sixth and seventh years.   
Molly replied happily, no wonder. How long are you going to be here again?  
Three weeks is the current appointment, she answered with an air of carelessness, but it could change. Old Grolier is getting on in his years. She laughed, Hence the name. Molly smiled politely.   
Well. I'd better get to class. It's my first ever Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and I really had better not miss it. She stood up, brushing the grass off of her clothes, thanks for talking to me. It really helped. A sudden look of worry passed over the woman's face,   
Are you alright, then? Molly nodded, I'd love to talk to you again. She stopped for a moment, as if for Molly to reply but then interrupted the silence herself, in fact, I would really be interested in seeing the Mirror you talked about. I am Head of the Ancient Artifacts and such. Maybe we could figure it out together. Molly bit her lip, and Honest spoke again, I wouldn't take it away or anything, but you never know, there could be something there worth seeing. It sounds very much like an Elven ring I found once. That one turned out to give you three wishes once you found out the words to make it wake. Molly considered,   
she said. She knew that she could really use some help figuring out that mirror, and Honest seemed like a really nice person, even if she was an adult. In fact, she seemed almost desperate, like she needed a friend very badly. Want to meet me here this time tomorrow? Honest smiled again,   
she replied, and Molly trotted back up to the castle, in a much happier mood than when she'd come out.  
  
Molly pulled her schedule out of her pocket as she hurried into the Great Hall. A few students were still rushing toward their classes and Molly joined them, turning quickly to what her schedule told her was the Defense Against the dark Arts Hall. She pulled open the door and had to blink her eyes twice, she was staring into pitch black. There was whispering coming from inside,  
What's going on? She asked from the doorway, her eyes still not adjusted to the dark.   
No one's here, Came a boys voice that Molly didn't recognize, I mean, the Professor. . . Keebles, I think: he's new this year. . . but he isn't here.   
Why don't you turn on a light? Molly asked a little confusedly as she took hesitating steps into the room.   
We tried, the voice answered, but we don't know how. In my house we have Glowing Pixie of Britain service, and all you have to do is clap and they light up.  
Mine has a lumonuous spell and you just have to walk into the room for it to brighten, came a rather squeaky girl's voice.  
Mine's got a lumonuous spell, too, but you just say Alight' and the lights come on. It was the same in Molly's, and several other peoples', she judged from their mumbled assents.   
Well, have you tried that stuff? She asked making her way blindly to a desk.   
Only about eight times, responded the first boy's voice.   
Molly said, thoroughly confused now. A sudden idea hit her and she shook her head at their stupidity, Well how about we just open the curtains?   
A few people snorted and two said, rather dumbly.   
  
Molly walked to the tall windows fairly surely, as she could now see the pale outlines of objects in the dark, and yanked open the curtains. Blinding sunlight flooded the room and a small, speedy, solid object came hurtling at Molly.  
  
  
  
A tiny man was zooming around the room, arms out like a muggle plane. Molly's jaw dropped. The other students looked just as dumbfounded.   
He screamed as he circled the room. Molly blinked hard, this couldn't possibly be real. She pinched her arm. It hurt. The little man continued to do laps. BAAAAAAAAAAAAD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! AWAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!   
Are you. . . er... okay? Molly asked, each of her words timed as he passed her.   
WRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNG! Wrong! On his second wrong,' the man stopped, and, breathing heavily, surveyed the room. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall and he had a very shiny bald head and a very wrinkled face ending in a gray beard that stretched down his chin to an unknown length, as it was wrapped at least three times around his waist like an uncanny sort of belt. Incorrect. Failed the test. Lots of work to do, he rasped. The voice of the boy that Molly had spoken to in the dark cracked into a fit of coughing behind her,  
You're the _professor_?He asked once he was under control. The man turned to the boy, as if seeing a student for the first time.  
Hm? Yes. Professor. Keebles. He did a little bow and turned to a chalk board behind him. Taking up his wand, he began to draw loopy letters.   
A girl's voice spoke up from the back, Molly turned along with Keebles and saw a small freckled girl with bright blue eyes, Sir? Doesn't Professor Alcott teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Keebles blinked and spoke,  
Hm? Alcott? No. No, no. Only thirds and up now. Me for firsts and seconds. Lots of work to do with them. Wrong, wrong, bad, wrong. . . He faced his board once more.   
Can I ask what's wrong, sir? Molly asked, becoming a little bit distressed, she couldn't quite understand what they'd done so wrong.   
Hm? Oh. Test. . . lights off. Was a test. Wrong, wrong, wrong.   
What should we have done, professor? If you don't mind. Molly was speaking through her teeth. For some reason, the thought of having been tested unknowingly made her very angry.  
Keebles smiled, his furry eyebrows seeming to reach the top of his shiny head, At last, a woooorrrthy question. I will, then, act as a worthy teacher! The strange demeanor of Keebles suddenly slipped away, and a dominance projected from him, despite his size. When dealing with the Dark Arts, one must realize that you can never tell what is a dark object, or who is a dark person. Therefore, you must always, _always,_ enter into the unknown suspiciously. While the dark is often good and the light has been known evil, you still should approach both with extreme caution. I am sorry to say that each of you handled the dark-room situation today very poorly. I thought there was some hope when Miss. . . ah. . . Camden, is it? He said, glancing at his roll sheet, stayed outside the door. She, however, also fell into our trap. Each student was now paying rapt attention.   
What should we have done? Asked a small voice from the back of the room.   
Our original question, I believe, Miss. . . Kent. The answer is a simple spell that can help you in any suspicious or unknown situation. It is. . . _lumos! The_ tip Keebles' wand light up with a small but bright light. Miss Kent gasped. Professor Keebles smiled, that is not all. To achieve complete caution, a much more complex spell is needed. Which. . . The air in the room hung with anticipation, is our homework project for this week. Each student groaned. Research and find the spell that will make the lumos charm even more effective. We will learn how to perform it next class period. Good day.   
  
The little man, who had somehow gained all of their respect with his short dialogue, retreated back into the curtain he had come from. Molly shook her head. He was definitely a little weird. She looked down at her watch, they still had twenty minutes left in class. Now that the lights were on and the room was quiet again, Molly was painfully aware of how few Ravenclaws were between her and Brook and Darcy, who were now giggling loudly. Molly saw Brook look at her through the corner of her eye, and then the two burst out laughing again. Molly felt her face redden and the back of her eyes heat up with tears. She focused all of her energy on pulling out her Defense Against the Dark Arts and flipping to the index. _Lumos,_ she tried to make herself think, but her mind kept wandering back to, _Jerks,_ without her realizing it.   
Someone sat down in the vacant desk beside Molly. She knew it was either Brook or Darcy. Come to make fun of her, she was sure. Without lifting her eyes from her parchment, she gritted her teeth,   
Please just go away, she said, in what was hopefully an aloof sort of voice, I heard what you said and I don't need you anyway. Don't worry, you're not my friend. She managed to get through without her voice cracking, but continued to stare stonily at her parchment.   
a low voice said next to her. I don't know what I said, but. . . sorry. Molly looked up, her eyebrows shooting to the top of her head. Arthur Weasley was lifting himself out of the chair.  
Oh. . . oh, no sorry, Molly whispered anxiously, sit down, please. I thought you were. . . She trailed off as the girls' across the room exploded with giggles again.   
  
Arthur looked relieved, but he quickly drew his eyebrows back together as Molly's face fell.   
What's wrong? He asked, his eyes flitting over to Brook and Darcy. Why aren't you over there with them? Why were you crying this morning? Molly laughed in spite of herself,  
Slow down, Sherlock. Do you really want to know? Arthur didn't smile, he simply nodded. Molly sighed, Alright. . . she said, making sure to keep her voice low, This morning. . . She plunged into the tail for the second time that day, leaving out only the parts about the mirror.   
When she finished, Arthur was frowning. What's wrong? Molly asked apprehensively.   
Something about that's not right, he said, furrowing his brow. Molly bit her lip, hoping he didn't mean the mirror,   
What do you mean? She asked, her voice kept carefully calm.  
What did you ever do to them? Why should they hate you? Molly frowned, suddenly on the virge of tears again.   
They shouldn't. . . I--- Her voice broke and her eyes flooded, I. . . She tried to go on. The bell rang. Molly looked at Arthur, who had raised a hand to comfort her, and dashed out of the room.  
  
Molly sat up in bed three hours later. She hadn't been able to stop crying in the bathroom, so she'd stumbled her way upstairs as the rest of the students traveled to their classes. She couldn't bear to see Amos, knowing that he was laughing at her inside. She couldn't believe she'd thought she was friends with any of them. She didn't understand how she'd been so dense. She _had _ to pull herself together.   
The bell would be sounding any minute, she knew, and Brook, Darcy, Allyson, and Jenica would be making their vicious ways up to the dormitory. . . and find her, unless she moved fast. She swiped a careless hand across her damp cheeks and dragged herself to the bathroom.   
Molly stared hard at her reflection. _What is wrong with me? _She thought miserably, _ Why do I care so much? _ Immediately, she knew that that was a stupid thought. She cared because she'd _always _cared. She hated it when someone didn't like her, or when she couldn't do something perfectly. An echo of the past sprang out of her memory. Once, in the third grade, when she'd brought the class cupcakes for her birthday, a girl, not even a friend of Molly's, wouldn't eat the cupcake because she didn't like chocolate. Molly had burst into tears. She did so once more, even as her mother's words from that time long ago spoke inside her head,  
Alice Camden had spoken calmly, you just can't make everyone happy. It's impossible. Just do the best you can, sweetie, that's all that matters. She had! She had done her best to be nice and perfect and everything she was supposed to be! She'd even been sweet to Lucius Malfoy as he'd all but spat in her face. And it didn't matter. It's this stupid place! She screamed, letting an anger she had never known before flow through her, It's just this stupid place. . . Molly crumpled to the floor in silent, aching sobs.   
The door creaked outside. She froze. Isn't Amos the cutest? It was Darcy, And can you believe today's lesson? Amazing. There were three distinct giggles. Molly held her breath. She was trapped. If they saw her now, cheeks blotchy, eyes red, and huddled in the corner like some terrified animal, she knew they'd never let her live it down.   
Footsteps approached the bathroom door. The knob twitched slightly, under someone's hand. Molly dropped her head, eyes leaking, ashamed. The door didn't open. Let's go to dinner, Allyson's voice carried into the bathroom. Molly waited.  
This early? Brook questioned.   
Yea, I mean we didn't have lunch. Aren't you hungry? There almost seemed to be a trace of worry in her tone, but Brook made a noise of quiet ascent. Molly heard them rustle out the doorway.   
Molly waited till they were out of earshot to move. I wonder why they weren't at lunch, she said to herself, brushing chestnut wisps out of her eyes. Unfortunately, the other girls were just far enough away that Molly could no longer hear them either, so she didn't hear Brook, stop for a moment and say,   
And where has Molly gotten off to? I haven't seen her all day.  
  
Molly slipped off her enormous black robe and crept to her bed. It was late; late enough for it to be incredibly silent and for all of her roommates to be fast asleep. She herself had been asleep until jolt awake by a dream about daggers and snakes fifteen minutes ago. Only she had been asleep under the willow tree outside. She'd gone there hoping that Honest would come, even though she'd known she wouldn't; she'd just wanted someone to talk to who would understand her problems. The only thing she'd found, however, was a new way to get cramps in her neck and that grounds security wasn't very tight at night.  
  
The next morning Molly went early to breakfast again and skipped charms. She sat out in the willow tree, which was quickly becoming her favorite place in the school, carefully concealed in emerald green robes and engrossing herself in _The Shadow of Dungeon Lake_. While other students chatted happily at lunch, Molly huddled in her robe and munched on some provisions that she'd shoved in her pockets that morning. While they sat through potions, she napped restlessly, her head against the pale bark of the tree trunk. And while they clambered back up to their respective towers, Molly stared at the picture of Marticello grinning charmingly at her, and remembered what nice people were like.   
It was dark again by the time Molly snuck into her dormitory, and her roommates were deep in their dreams once more. _I wonder if anyone even missed me, _ she thought listlessly, unaware that she was tumbling into a hopeless state of depression.   
  
A cool breeze brushed across Molly's face. Her eyes flitted open and she stretched in a Long catlike movement. A few birds were chirping quietly in the distance, and Molly looked around her. The light was very gray, as if she was in the midst of a very dense fog, and the ground was a pale green, and several tall stony trees towered around her, as though all the color had been drained---  
Molly's heart began to pound. She strained her ears for the birds she had heard a moment before. She gasped and nearly fainted in shock. The noise that she had first heard as chirpingwas growing, ever clearer, into jingling. Molly gulped. At least she could see this time, she thought nervously, throwing another glance at the pale green grass. She scraped up as much courage as she could and pulled herself to her feet.   
She called, her voice only shaking a little, Is--is anyone here? A surprised gasp seemed to echo around the small gray clearing.   
came the voice that Molly knew she would never forget, Are-- is-- is that Molly?   
  
Oh! Thank goodness! The Lady's voice was filled with relief, and sounded raw, like she'd been crying. We thought you'd decided not to return. We didn't know what to do. You are our only hope now! Molly shoved down the scared-anticipation of adventure that was creeping up her spine and kept her voice calm and aloof,  
We? Our? What do you mean?   
Oh, my sisters. We. We, who need you're help, she sounded utterly terrified.   
Why haven't I heard them before? Molly asked, deliberately refraining from commenting on the help' that she needed to give. The Lady's voice now edged toward panic,   
I-- I don't know. You've only been here once. Sadume has been sick, that's why we need your help. Because she's sick, and we're---she seemed to search desperately for a word   
What do you mean? Molly bit her lip, she was becoming concerned. That was not good.   
Will you stay to listen? Will you help? I cannot tell one who will not help us. That is why Sadume is sick. My-- her silky voice broke, --my mistake.   
  
Molly stood for a moment, torn between the need to help someone in trouble and the need to be smart. A moment later she threw all caution to the wind,  
she breathed weakly, I'll help. What's _wrong_?The Lady sighed in relief,   
Oh, thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ I was so worried. Molly waited, I suppose you will have to know it all, then, from the beginning.  
That would help, Molly said, hoping she didn't sound too sarcastic. She heard the Lady take a deep breath, and a rustling behind one of the tallest gray trees.   
It would also help, then, to see me, I suppose? Molly stood in silence, her head tilted curiously as a hazy shadow moved into view.   
I-- I can't really see you. . . Molly said, a little embarrassed. In fact, I couldn't see anything last time, and now it's all a sort of gray blur. The Lady sighed again,   
That is one of the safeguards that we have given to Nogrog, since it has been made our home.  
What do you mean made your home'? A tension contracted in the air, and Molly felt as though, somehow, the whole world of Nogrog was answering her questions with the Lady.   
That is where it all begins, the voice responded with a distant sort of ache, It begins, she repeated, with a man named Tom. A shiver ran up Molly's spine for a reason that she couldn't place, but she didn't speak. Why don't you have a seat? The Lady said, indicating with what must have been an arm toward the ground. Molly sat down gracefully, still not saying a word, pressing the Lady to continue.   
When I was a young girl, she began, I was very beautiful. Regarded as one of the most beautiful in the land, in fact, second only to my sisters. Of the three of us, I am the oldest, and Sadume is the youngest. Sadume, to be fair, was spoiled in her youth by all the people of the land. She grew very conceited. I will not say that I was not conceited as well, nor will I say that my other sister was not. However, Sadume was also the least wise of the three. She bragged, one day, that she was more beautiful than the queen, and the queen turned her wrath against Sadume. The Lady paused, and Molly spoke for the first time,  
What wrath? Choked sobs came from the gray mass as it tried to speak,   
She-- she-- her wrath was so great, and Sadume such a weak child. There was nothing-- nothing we could do. It was all Tom's fault. . . all his fault. She broke off, wailing in grief.   
What did he do? Molly asked, unable to control her curiosity. The Lady's crying stopped suddenly, and a deep hatred filled her voice. He came to me and told me of a place we could go. A place where Sadume would be safe. I believed him, and he brought us here. Here. Where we cannot leave. _Safe_, the word slid off her tongue, covered in a kind rage that Molly had never imagined, Safe from the world, _because we were no longer in the world._ He trapped us here. Draining our power, sucking out our life. He has nearly killed Sadume, I am alone, for our sister has vanished. _You must help us, Molly_. Molly bit her lip, she didn't know what to do. The Lady's voice broke out again, _You must._  
  
Molly closed her eyes, concentrating on thinking. Nothing came. She asked.  
There is a way, The Lady said, a strange tone in her voice. There is a spell that can get us out of here. We could perform it, but we would need things, Molly. Things that cannot be gotten here. Shivers ran up Molly's spine again.   
She asked, crossing her fingers that it would all be legal.   
Five things. Five things can get us out, Molly. We _have _ to get out, Molly. Molly held her breath,   
She repeated.   
Three Petals of a moonflower, two tears of a phoenix, a single unicorn hair, the venom of a basilisk, and. . . Molly's eyes were wide in desperation, what else could there possibly be? a certain mirror. The Lady finished, the haze that surrounded her emitting tense sort of rays of light.   
Molly's face paled. She hoped vehemently that the Lady saw her as the same grayness that she was looking into, for she felt, at that moment, like she'd given away any hope she'd had of keeping the mirror secret. Molly didn't know why, she didn't know what, but some deep primitive instinct was screaming to her not to reveal the mirror. Some inane voice was whispering in her head not to say a word. To play ignorant. To lie. _I've got to talk to someone about this, _she thought desperately.   
She turned her face back up to the gray world. She had to help, though. That wasn't a question. The sisters were in trouble, she had to help. She spoke one word.  
The millionth sigh of relief came from patch of haze hovering in front of Molly's eyes.   
Listen carefully, the Lady's voice said, there is only time to say this once.  
  
Molly lay in bed with her eyes shut, thinking. She knew she was back this time, as she'd known she was going when the jingling began again. She didn't know how, but something more powerful than herself, and more powerful than the Lady in the Glass was controlling her life. Something had given her a new fate. The sudden urge to talk to someone came over Molly again, and she racked her mind for anyone she could count on. Then it hit her. She'd already _had _ someone to talk to. But. . .  
She'd been in the Willow tree yesterday morning. Honest hadn't come. . . Molly suppressed a flabbergasted grunt and pulled herself out of bed. Maybe Honest had gotten confused and thought the meeting was today. It was possible, she decided as she pulled on some clothes and headed for the door.  
  
She was nearly out the potrait hole when a half-strangeled shout echoed across the common room,  
Molly Camden! Molly turned. Arthur Weasley was sprinting toward her, the looks of relief, bewilderment, and anger all flashing over his face at once, as though some battle was raging in his head. Molly raised her eyebrows in surprise. Where the hell have you been?! Arthur shouted. Anger had apparently won. Molly opened her mouth, but she didn't get time to speak,   
Do you know what you've done to us?! Everyone's been worried sick! Molly looked around the common room. Everyone was staring on with definite interest but they didn't exactly appear worried sick. Molly took a deep breath,   
I skipped class, Arthur. I don't think _they _ cared, she said lightly, gesturing to the roomful of onlookers, who quickly shifted their gazes when Arthur spun around to look at them.   
Screw them! Arthur shouted. Anger had been defeated, it seemed that fury was now reigning king in the realm of Arthur Weasley's head. Brook, Allyson, and I were up all night! None of the first year girls ate lunch yesterday, they were all looking for _you. _ If we didn't find you today, we-- Molly had had enough. A coldness that she hadn't known she possessed filled her voice, but her words were calm and contained,   
Look, Arthur. The first year girls don't care about me, and I don't care about them. The arrangement works perfectly. Now excuse me, I was on my way out. With that, Molly tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked out the portrait hole, leaving behind a silent common room and a very stunned Arthur Weasley. 


	6. Euryale

An hour later, Molly found herself in bed pondering over the days events. Once she had asked Metsie for food, there was no going back. Swarms of house-elves had bowed and curtsied platters of food to her, only stopping to ask if she wanted anything else before bringing it anyway. She shook her head and laughed into her pillow. She liked house-elves.   
  
Molly awoke the next morning in a better mood than she had been in in days. Somehow happy house-elves had managed to do something that none of her other efforts had: push both first year and Nogrog into the back of her mind. She stood up and walked over to the window, drawing back the curtain quietly and looking out. It was early, the sun was just barely peaking over the horizon, and no one else was awake yet again. She stared at the lake, the water much like a sheet of glass, and watched as the giant squid broke the surface and floated lazily on top. It was time to go back to class, she decided. She'd already missed so much that her grades were surely suffering severely. But more than caring about her grades, Molly wanted to learn magic. She'd looked forward to Hogwarts for all her life, and now that she was here all she was doing was skivving off. It was time to go back.   
  
Molly went to her dresser and pulled on her favorite jeans and her pale yellow shirt she'd gotten for her birthday last year. She tied up her hair, pulled her cloak on and headed for the door. She was nearly out went something blue tied onto the left post of her four-poster caught her eye. It was an envelope labeled simply _Molly_. Carefully, she pulled it open and read:  
  
_Mol,   
I know that you've been depressed and stuff and I didn't help by yelling at you yesterday. I wish that you would come to class, though. Everyone misses you. Meet me at breakfast at 7:00, I want to talk to you. Please. Sorry about the yelling,   
Arthur   
_  
Molly folded the note back up and slipped it into the envelope. She glanced at her watch, it was 6:23. Well, she had some time to kill, then.  
  
  
At 6:55 Molly was sitting at the Gryffindor table eating warm biscuits, compliments of all the house-elves downstairs. After she'd gotten Arthur's note, she'd gone to the owlery and sent a letter to her parents, making Hogwarts sound ten times as wonderful as it had been, but keeping them perfectly happy. She was just thinking that it would be a good day to organize her trunk when Arthur appeared. He looked. . . pensive. And a little bit worried. His face brightened considerably, however, as soon as he saw Molly waiting for him.   
  
She ran a hand over her dark ponytail and wrinkled her forehead.  
  
Whatcha need? She asked, as though her behavior over the past week had been perfectly normal.   
  
Arthur said, seriously. A frown creased Molly's face. She was about to question, when Arthur went on, See, I have this friend. For some reason she thinks that all of her friends hate her, and she's been acting really strange, and skivving off, and I don't know what to do. I could tell her she's in denial, but I'm afraid she'd get mad at me, too. Or I could say that it's not smart to skip, but then I would potentially be setting myself up for future lectures. You see my dilemma. Any advice?Molly rolled her eyes. For some reason hearing it from Arthur didn't put her in a bad mood. It did, however, force her to take up her own defense; and therefore, shoot him down.  
  
Well, maybe, you should tell her you're a great prat. That might make her feel better. Arthur widened his eyes and gulped dramatically, looking Molly straight in the eyes,  
  
I'm a great prat.   
  
They both stared at each other silently for a moment; and then Molly broke out into hysteric giggles, which turned into wild laughter, and she was soon doubled over, gasping for breath, and threatening to choke on her biscuit all at once. Arthur watched, bewildered. He appeared both incredibly relieved that she was happy and thoroughly confused at once; displaying a war of facial expression as only Arthur could. This only made Molly laugh harder.   
  
She finally got out between giggles. Arthur looked entertained, astonished, and exasperated all at once. Molly fought not to fall out of her chair. No, stop, stop, STOP!   
  
Stop, _what?_ Molly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got herself under control. Then she took one look at Arthur's face and lost it all over again.   
  
  
The next few days flew by with abnormal speed. Molly herself was living. . . loudly. She was having fun at every opportunity; laughing whenever possible, behaving-- quite uncharacteristically-- spontaneous, and joking with Arthur endlessly. Arthur seemed so relieved that Molly was smiling once more that he didn't mention Brook, Allyson, Jenica, or Darcy again, letting Molly exhaust her energy. The fourth day after their breakfast however, Arthur approached Molly in Charms. The lesson, given by the archaic Professor Bluth, had ended early and she saw him coming from a mile away, the determined look set on his face. She sighed and studied him, already knowing what he was going to say.   
  
Mol, I want you to-- She cut him off,  
  
Let it go, Arthur. I don't-- He cut her off,  
  
  
  
I won't--  
  
  
  
Lay off--  
  
  
  
  
  
Of my friends.  
  
Concern eased off Molly's face. She tilted her head, wondering.   
  
She answered, after a brief pause. It occurred to her at one point that he might just be leading her straight to Brook, but he headed to the back of the classroom, where the four loud girls definitely were not. Arthur stopped in front of three boys, two of which she knew to be from Gryffindor, the other, she assumed, was from Ravenclaw as their Charms lessons were shared with Ravenclaws. The first person that Arthur introduced her to (and who vaguely remembered from a previous introduction) was a tall blondish boy with a slightly crooked nose.   
  
This is Hugh Davies, he's in Gryffindor with us. So is Sir Kaleb Finch here, he gestured to a short boy with shaggy brown hair and bright blue eyes. Molly lifted an eyebrow.  
  
Arthur's face remained completely serious,  
  
Of course. He was officially knighted yesterday at lunch.  
  
Oh really? Molly asked, her lips twitching in humor, and by who, may I ask?   
  
King George, here, he patted the Ravenclaw, who was four times Arthur's size (both ways, it seemed), companionably on the back. Molly held her hand out and curtsied in feigned reverence.  
  
My Lord. The massive King George turned a bright pink, but managed to keep his face straight.  
  
I prefer King George Dobbs the Sixth, Mademoiselle. He spoke in such a low pretentious tone that Molly finally cracked into a hilarious fit of giggles that had wanted to escape since the stupid conversation had begun. King George, however, did not appear pleased. He ordered her to be beheaded at once. Professor Bluth told them to kindly take their seats.   
  
  
After meeting Hugh, Kaleb, and George, Molly's life almost became normal again. She even had a lot of genuine fun. Whenever she crawled into bed at night (usually so late that the other four girls were already fast asleep), though, she had to tell herself again and again that she was happy, and that she didn't need any other friends. That she didn't need anyone to talk to about make up or hair or how incredibly cute Hugh was. She and the other four had, in fact, reached what seemed to be a silent arrangement. They didn't speak to her, and she didn't speak to them. It was like they lived on two separate dimensions, and Molly was perfectly happy with the it that way. At least, she tried to tell herself she was. Two weeks after the Charms introductions, however, as Molly was walking to dinner, she found herself standing behind Arthur and Hugh. She was just about to attack when the sound of her own name made her pause.   
  
--- I really don't know what to do about it, Arthur was saying, You don't even understand. The first time I met Molly she was so happy. I mean really happy. It wasn't like now, how she just laughs all the time; almost like she's afraid to stop. I thought maybe it was just cause she didn't have enough friends, but that's only made it worse.  
  
Gee, thanks, Hugh replied sarcastically.   
  
You know what I mean, Arthur said, unapologetically. I think I'll talk to Brook. Molly froze where she was standing. She couldn't believe it! After everything she'd confided in Arthur, he was just going to run to her worst enemy about what he thought were her psychological issues. She felt her face flush in anger and couldn't control herself,  
  
Arthur Weasley! Arthur turned and his mouth fell open a little in surprise when he saw Molly so close behind him. I truly cannot believe you! I thought I could trust you! Molly was shouting furiously, completely oblivious to the students stopping in the hall to watch. After everything you've said! After all the fun! You go behind my back, plotting to talk to the one group of people I have forbidden you to say anything to! You're horrible and rude and completely disappointing, and I'm absolutely disgusted that I've had anything to do with you! Arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, Don't speak to me! Molly roared. She swung around and stormed back toward Gryffindor Tower, leaving behind a shame faced Arthur and a baffled audience. The voice of a bystander carried to Molly, just barely audible over the pounding blood in her head,   
  
My God! It said, full of awe and horror, She's worse than my mother!  
  
  
Molly burst into her dormitory simply flaming. She could not believe his nerve! She had to do something, she had to burn up the anger in her or she was going to explode. Her eyes fell onto the Mirror. She hadn't been to Nogrog since the second visit. She hadn't worked at all on figuring out how to help The Lady either. A sudden surge of guilt almost fully replaced the rage. She should go. If nothing else, to get more information; to learn about this Tom. . . and to ask about the mirror. That one question kept popping up whenever Molly thought about it. What link did the mirror have to Nogrog? To Tom? Sadume? The Lady? Why did she have it, and why did they need it? She had to know. Molly looked at her watch. Lessons were over for the day, and no one would expect her until morning. Plenty of time, then.   
  
Molly picked up the mirror. This would be the first time she'd ever willingly tried to get to Nogrog, would it even work? She lifted the glass to her face, gazing into the pearly mist. SEM La Rorrim den Norgog Euryale, She spoke the words that had first taken her in a soft voice, and immediately the world began to spin and darken as a jingling filled her ears.   
  
When Molly opened her eyes, she found that she could see even more clearly than the last time. The grass was a few shades greener, and the sky a pale blue. The trees and flowers, howverem remained a stoney gray.   
  
The now familiar voice called out in joy and a hazy blur seemed to jump up from beneath a tree and rush to her. You've returned so soon! Unease and guilt flooded back into Molly's system. How could she have not searched for the ingredients that would free them already? The Lady seemed to read her thoughts, though, and spoke in the same happy voice, But surely you have not been able to find our elements already. What is it that you have come for, then? Molly smiled, at least here no one was turning their respective backs on her.   
  
Just to check on you, Molly answered sincerely, but I have a few questions, if you wouldn't mind answering for me.   
  
Of course not, the voice emanated from the haze, what do you wish to know?  
  
Molly said, biding her time until the most pressing question, I want to know more about Tom. Who is he? How did you know him? I think that perhaps, if I could find him, I could find a way to make him release you, rather than attempt this spell. There was a moment's silence, and then the Lady responded,  
  
Even if you could find him, she said slowly, I would not want you to. Tom is treacherous. He cannot be trusted. He was, once, a person. . . but he has become worse. His quest began, I believe, in search of truth. It has become a search for power and immortality. The things that Tom craves are not human, nor are they wise. But he has such a desire that he cannot be dissuaded. He has resorted to sucking the magic and the life out of those less powerful than he, or those that he can fool into his treachery; such as us. Each day my sister gets weaker, and each day it becomes harder not to give in and give him all he wants. Molly's mouth had fallen open. She'd had no idea that this was anything, anything so _real_. Surely, surely this Tom couldn't be as horrible as the Lady thought. . . Surely. . .   
  
What else to you need to know? The silky voice brought Molly back to her senses and sent her mind reeling for another question.   
  
You told me how the spell worked, Molly asked, truly hoping for an answer to this question, but you didn't tell me how to get the. . .er. . . elements, did you call them?   
  
Elements, yes, her calm voice stated sadly. Unfortunately, I cannot give you any information on the whereabouts of such things. I have been here too long, and I am from too far away. . . She trailed off. Frustration hitched itself into Molly's side and she let out a very immature whimper.  
  
But how-- how am I supposed to-- how do I even know-- Molly cut herself off, thinking how horrible she'd almost sounded.  
  
That this is even real? The Lady finished for her, making Molly feel terrible. I told you the first time I saw you, looking down at me through the sky, though I still don't know how you were there. I told you that If you perceive and don't believe. . . She trailed off again, but Molly didn't need her to finish. The question had been stupid. She knew this was real as surely as she knew that Hogwarts was real and that magic was real. She sighed. The time had come to ask what she really needed to know.   
  
There's one other thing, she said, her voice quavering just a bit.   
  
the Lady encouraged. Gathering her bravery, telling herself that her fear of letting the Lady know of the Mirror was stupid, Molly drew in a deep breath.  
  
The Mirror that you spoke of. . . You never described it or told me why it was important. How am I supposed to get it if I don't know? It seems like there is something missing. It was out now. Molly just hoped she could get a satisfactory answer. The Lady remained silent, and Molly heard her let out a shaky breath.   
  
The Mirror, the Lady said when it seemed she had found words, is the key to it all.  
  
  
Mollys sharp intake of breath seemed to echo around the clearing. What-- what do you mean?   
  
The Lady drew in a deep breath as well. The Mirror is the only way to get back and forth here. . . at least we thought it was. But then you came, Molly. That is why you are so important, becuase you came without it.   
  
But that can't be all, Molly thought out loud. There has to be something more to that Mirror. . . _Why does it bring people here? _Her mind begged for the answer. _How? _  
  
That is not all, The Lady sighed. The Mirror used to be mine. It was a token given to me by a friend. A friend who said I should-- I should always be able to see how beautiful I was. You see, I had been very jealous of M-- my sister. Sadume is the most beautiful of us. . . she always was. He, my friend, gave me the Mirror. She broke a moment, collecting herself. Tom saw its usefulness later when it became apparent how desperate we were. He enchanted it. He told us how effeceint it would be, because no one could get here-- to--- to Nogrog. No one except us. The idea seemed so perfect. We had. . . never had any idea--- The Lady's voice cracked and her voice disappeared under sobs. Molly had heard enough.   
  
It's okay, she said when the Lady tried to go on, that's enough.   
  
Oh, Molly! The smooth voice broke again, please, _please _ help us out of here. Molly ser her jaw, but not soon enough to stop to tears rolling down her cheeks.   
  
Don't worry, she whispered, don't worry. _I will_.  
  
Suddenly, the jingling, as if on cue, became thick once more. But even as things were growing darker and fading off, a new question popped into Molly's head.  
  
There was a momentary lull in the jingling, What's _your _name?! A tearful laugh broke out and everything-- including the reamining jingling-- seemed to pause for an answer.   
  
the Lady's voice answered, I don't have a name, but I was once known as Euryale. The jingling hit back, full force, and Molly was swept away.


End file.
